


Winter Flame

by TungstenCat



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, For Want of a Nail, Kiritsugu's nail in particular, Post HGW AU, slowburn romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TungstenCat/pseuds/TungstenCat
Summary: He found his path in the halls of law instead of the steel of swords, but the ache still eats him from inside. She lost her way, and now picks at its broken pieces in the hopes of reassembling herself. Perhaps they can find solace in each other.A post HGW AU slowburn romance where Shirou missed the War, but not its impact on the lives of the people around him.
Relationships: Emiya Shirou/Tohsaka Rin, background Matou Sakura / Mitsuzuri Ayako
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

"Is this really necessary, Shinji?" asked Shirou.

He tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket as they walked down the long hallway that led to Homurahara's gymnasium.

"Yes, Shirou, it's _necessary,"_ said his friend, with just the hint of a mocking sing-song. "And you might as well get used to it. Makami isn't going to let you near the courtroom wearing one of your old sweaters."

It was evening, and even the most diligent students had finished up their club activities and gone home. Still, Shirou felt a wave of nostalgia as they passed the double doors and green panels of the school's classrooms. With each step, the years seemed to drop away. If he closed his eyes, he would hear the bustle of crowded hallways, teenagers chattering before the morning bell dispersed them to start the day. It made the fancy suit feel that much more awkward on his shoulders.

"It still feels like too much. This is just a high school reunion."

"It's an occasion to strut your stuff," Shinji scoffed, running a hand through his carefully gelled hair. "Everyone's going to be dressed to impress. You don't want to disappoint them, right?"

"I guess," said the other, ignoring his friend's disapproving huff in favour of breathing in the familiar atmosphere.

_Seven years_ , he reflected. _I can't believe it's been seven years since graduation. I wonder what everyone's been up to_. He thought about coming to the previous reunions, but he was always too busy studying, making up for a lack of brilliance with hard work. He had documents to review tonight as well, but Shinji had put his foot down.

" _We worked like dogs to get where we are," he had shouted, and thumped his fist on Shirou's desk between the mountains of stacked documents. "Let's enjoy our achievement." Then, nostrils flaring in response to Shirou's noncommittal shrug, "Live a little, you damn stick in the mud!"_

Shirou couldn't call his law career an achievement, not when he had just started taking on cases, not when he hadn't yet saved anyone ( _helped_ anyone, he hastily corrected himself, the former always worried people when he said it aloud). But Shinji meant well, and not many people asked him anywhere anymore. So he had agreed to come, and sighed in exasperated fondness when his friend crowed victory.

It wasn't just a matter of making his oldest friend happy. Secretly he had been looking forward to the reunion. It was a chance to reminiscence and catch up with his friends again, the few he had managed to keep sporadic contact with over the years.

With a crackling hiss, one of the artificial lights on the ceiling flickered. _That's the same one Issei and I were always trying to fix,_ he thought wistfully as they passed under it. _But no matter how many times we changed the bulb or fiddled with the connectors, it always acted up again within the week. I guess some things never change._

The thought made Shirou smile, which morphed into a yawn before he was able to suppress it. He squared his shoulders, determined to push the fatigue aside. There was still lots of paperwork to file when he returned to the office after the party wrapped up, so—

A deep sigh drifted through the air, then Shinji's hand clamped on his shoulder.

"Stop."

Shirou did, turning to look questioningly at his friend. The other man only clicked his tongue impatiently as he straightened the redhead's collar.

"Ahh, thanks," said Shirou sheepishly. He had thought it looked perfectly fine, but his friend's crinkled nose and insistent tugs said otherwise.

Shinji sighed again. "I'm not your girlfriend, idiot. I can't always be fixing things for you."

"You're right, people will start to talk." He raised his hands appeasingly when the other man glared at him. "Sorry, sorry. I'll get a better mirror, okay?"

"It's not about the mirror, it's about having the time to use it," grumbled Shinji as they started walking again. "With all those _pro bono_ cases you keep taking on… tch, when was the last time you had a full night's sleep? Well, nevermind that now…"

They were getting closer now, the muffled hum of music and voices drifting from the double doors ahead. Shirou sighed, resisting the urge to stuff his hands in the largely decorative pockets on his suit.

_It's not like I enjoy being up at all hours. It's just… I can't turn anyone away, not when they need help._

So it was okay if he ran himself a little bit ragged, if it meant his clients could leave their holding cells a little sooner and go home to their families. But he couldn't ask the same of Shinji. Guilt tightened his throat when he thought of how his friend would occasionally snatch folders off his desk, ignoring Shirou's protests as he bad-temperedly added them to his own pile. _I'll do a better job of hiding them from now on_ , he promised himself. _I can finish the work myself, if I cut back on dojo training and cooking time_. _Maybe if I freeze big batches and reheat portions during the week…_

The thought saddened Shirou. He found cooking relaxing, one of the few pleasures he allowed himself because tasty food always made the people around him smile. But it had been a long time since anyone had sat at his table ( _the thought brought a brief ache to his heart, before he pushed it away with ease borne of practice)_ , and in any event it was a sacrifice he needed to make. He couldn't leave anyone behind, not when he could save them ( _not ever again_ ).

A nudge from Shinji pulled him from his thoughts. They'd stopped just outside the gymnasium door now, the conversation within a dull roar punctuated with high notes of laughter and clinking glass.

"Fashionably late, just as planned." His friend grinned as he gripped the handlebar. "Show time, Shirou!"

With a flourish, he threw it open and they strode in. If nostalgia had struck Shirou in the hallways of his old school, it practically choked him when he stepped on the polished wood of the gymnasium. Underneath the crowd and the bright banners, the room looked the same as ever. The same high curved ceiling and square windows, the same stage at the front even if the curtains looked new, and the same scent of floor cleaner and wax covering up old sweat. Everything spotless, of course — but then, it would be. Mitsuzuri—he supposed he should append _sensei_ to that now—would make heads roll if everything wasn't up to scratch in her facilities.

The room was packed with people, either enjoying themselves or pretending to with various degrees of success. The lateness of the pair's arrival meant that little clusters had already drifted towards the centre, away from the food and drinks laid out on the back tables. Shinji was right — their old schoolmates looked to have dressed up a bit, even if most of the suits and dresses weren't quite so formal as the attorneys' own attire.

_Seven years_ , Shirou thought again as he spotted a few familiar faces — acquaintances, but not the friends he was looking for, or certain other people he found himself hoping to pick out from the crowd. _I can't believe it's already been seven years. I hope she—_

"Hey, Shin-man!" called a booming voice. "Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you. Get on over here."

"Nothing bad, I hope," laughed Shinji as eager hands waved them over. Well, waved the Matou heir over, leaving Shirou to follow along in his wake.

Biting back another yawn, the redhead waited patiently as his friend happily chatted up the circle, exchanging jokes and pleasantries with a natural ease. A few of the participants briefly nodded at him when their gazes met, but their interest always quickly turned back to the animated Shinji.

Shirou didn't mind. Always popular for his handsome face and deep pockets, Shinji had become something of a sensation in his last year at Homuhara, when he had shed much of the aggressive attitude that had driven a wedge between him and his schoolmates. That same year saw the rekindling of their old friendship. Letting his friend bask in his element was an easy way to show his gratitude for all of Shinji's support since then.

Besides, hovering on the edge of the conversation made it easy for Shirou to discreetly resume his search. A flutter of violet hair near the far side had just caught his eye when he felt an elbow nudge him in the ribs, none too gently.

"Oi, Shirou." Shinji was frowning at him, a glint of concern in his eyes "You're being awfully quiet."

"It's just a lot of people, that's all," shrugged Shirou, wincing at his weak excuse.

But he barely remembered these people, and most of the discussion was flying over his head. It didn't help that an all too familiar discomfort was settling over him, the nagging sense that he didn't belong here. Didn't belong among these cheerful smiling faces.

"You just need some liquid courage, that's all." Shinji nodded to the circle as he deftly steered Shirou towards the drinks table. "If you'll please excuse us…"

They had only taken a few steps before a woman in a form-fitting blue dress intercepted them by firmly attaching herself to Shinji's arm. Chestnut curls bounced prettily as she beamed at him.

"Shinji, how wonderful to see you again!... oh, and Emiya-san too, of course."

The face was familiar, although it took an embarrassingly long time for a name to float up from his memories. Ah yes, Ikeda Mitsuki. Once of the girls that Shinji used to date casually, before he left Fuyuki to study abroad for a few years.

"Mitsuki, you're as lovely as ever," said Shinji, with a touch of the old unctuousness that always made Shirou want to roll his eyes. "Truly, an angel has descended upon us tonight."

"Flatterer," she giggled, before running an appreciative gaze over him. "You've done so well for yourself, too. Tell me, what kind of law did you end up practicing? Something big and impressive— international business?"

"Not quite," said Shinji, trying and failing to hide the sudden strain in his smile. "But rewarding work, all the same. If I could bore you with some of the details—"

"Oh, please do!"

Shirou took that as his cue to give his friend some space, proceeding alone toward the drinks table. The fact was that between his grades and his practiced charm, Shinji probably _could_ have practiced any kind of law he wanted. That he had instead chosen to follow Shirou into criminal defense, and an apprenticeship with an old curmudgeon no less… the redhead still didn't understand, but he was grateful for it. Enough to make himself scarce as Shinji snagged himself a date for the weekend.

Sighing, he forced down the small twinge of loneliness in his chest as he maneuvered his way through the crowd. He didn't have the right to feel that way, not since he started turning down the blind dates Shinji arranged for him. Another small pleasure sacrificed on the altar of work, but he wouldn't allow himself to regret it.

_Chin up, Emiya_ , he thought as he reached the table, with its assortment of glasses and long-necked bottles, _you've got people you wanted to see tonight, anyway. Issei, and Mitsuzuri and Sakura, and maybe—_

He was just reaching for a wine glass when another hand closed on it, brushing against his own. Slender and elegant, but with a surprising amount of small calluses on the fingertips.

"Ahh, sorry!" he said automatically.

"No, no, it's my mistake," said a clear feminine voice, and once again the years seemed to fall away.

Glancing up, he found himself staring into aquamarine eyes and felt his heart give a little turn. Tohsaka Rin had lost none of her beauty over the years. Dark hair, worn loose instead of the pigtails he remembered, cascaded down her shoulders. It looked like midnight ink spilled across her pale skin and the deep crimson of her dress.

Shirou blinked, realizing he was staring, but Tohsaka didn't seem to notice. She was staring too, gaze intent as she seemed to compare him to the boy she had once known. Then she caught herself, smoothing out her expression into a polished mask of good manners.

"Emiya-kun," she said with a pleasant smile. "No, I suppose it should be Emiya- _san_ now. It's been quite a while."

"Seven years," he nodded. "What have you been up to, Tohsaka?"

"Growing older, like the rest of us," she said with a touch of humour as she accepted the red wine he poured for her. "But if you mean how I earn my bread, I took over my family's business in estate planning."

"I see. That sounds interesting."

"Liar," she said, more amused than upset. "But it's kind of you to say so." She laughed and raised the glass to her lips. "I suppose it's rewarding enough in its way."

Shirou found himself frowning as he watched her take a delicate sip. As lovely as her laughter was, he didn't miss the subtle slump in her shoulders, or the strain dimming her eyes.

_The spark's still gone,_ he thought with some regret as he poured his own drink. That spark of life and fiery drive for perfection that, more than looks, had drawn him to Tohsaka back in their school days. Admittedly he had been too fixed on his path to do much more than admire her from a distance, but Issei's accusation that he'd fallen for her charms did hold some grain of truth.

Then she had fallen ill in their second year. Only for two weeks, but when she returned, the spark had guttered out. While she still achieved the same high marks, still displayed the same practiced smile, none of it touched her eyes. As if everything was done from habit, or perhaps out of duty, but without passion. Even Issei had commented on it.

Shirou had briefly wondered on the trip here whether he might see Tohsaka tonight, and whether the years might have rekindled that spark. _Nowhere near as much as I was hoping_.

But while she seemed tired underneath her manners, there was genuine warmth in her smile as she raised her glass towards him, encouraging him to drink his own. He found himself smiling back.

"Congratulations on finishing your internship, by the way," she said after a moment. "The Legal Research and Training Institution is supposed to be pretty grueling."

"Ahh, thanks," said Shirou, resisting the urge to scratch his cheek. Then he stiffened."Wait, you knew about that?"

"Sakura told me about it," she smiled.

He could have kicked himself. It was only natural that sisters would talk, even if he was surprised to find himself an object of discussion. Admittedly not as surprised as they'd all been when Tohsaka had publicly declared the family relationship in their last year, fueling the school gossip mill for months—

Blinking, Shirou realized Tohsaka was patiently waiting for him to continue. Resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck, he watched the wine swirling in his glass.

"Makami-san says I've got a long way to go," he grumbled. "But I'm going to stick with it, no matter what. That's the path I've chosen."

"Makami?"

"My senior lawyer," he clarified. "He's got some rough edges, but he's a good guy underneath. I'm learning a lot from him."

"Hah. I'm sure Lady Velvet can rest easier at night, knowing someone is keeping a close eye on you," she said, her smile taking on shades of a teasing smirk. It was an expression he didn't remember from her idol days, but he found that he liked it.

"Fuji-nee's one to talk," he snorted, though not without affection. "Not when she still calls me every week to ask what went wrong with her recipe."

For all that Shirou sighed when he heard his adopted sister's pleading voice on the other end, he enjoyed those calls. They offered a brief but welcome distraction from his books, and the chance to catch up now that he so rarely saw her in person.

"I'm waiting for the day her husband gives up and does the cooking himself," he continued with a shake of his head.

"Be careful what you wish for," grimaced Tohsaka. "El-Melloi the Second learnt all his cooking in London, and not in the good places either. _Bleak_ does not begin to describe it."

"Oh, you know him too?"

"Emiya, who do you think introduced them?" she said, a bit of pride seeping into her voice. "Although I have to admit it wasn't intentional. We had to drop by Sakura's place for business, a certain tiger had invited herself over for dinner… and, well, one thing led to another."

"I never expected a Professor of Anthropology to be so good with wild beasts," he said good-naturedly.

"Anthropology. Is that what he's calling it?" Tohsaka looked subtly amused. "Well, I suppose—"

Her mouth snapped shut and her brow visibly darkened as she spotted something over Shirou's shoulder. Shifting to follow her gaze, he saw Shinji striding towards them wearing his most charming smile.

"Ahh, Tohsaka," he said, "Thank you for looking after Shirou for me. Lovely evening, isn't it?"

"Matou." There was hard ice in her eyes as she forced a polite smile to her lips, and her grip visibly tightened on the stem of her glass.

Shirou couldn't help but wince in sympathy for his friend. _I guess that didn't change, either_. It was no secret that Shinji had a massive crush on the school idol in their younger days, not with the way he hit on her at every opportunity. In the early days, she had turned him down with indifference edging into dislike. But that was another thing that had changed in second year, when dislike had suddenly and irrevocably soured into outright loathing. It seemed that sentiment was still firmly in place.

Socialite that he fancied himself, Shinji valiantly tried again. "That's a nice dress, Tohsaka."

"You think so?" she said, her smile all teeth. "I wonder if I can still return it, then."

Shirou had weathered many awkward conversations in his short time working under Makami, but the strain in Shinji's smile and the wired tension in Tohsaka's jaw were a bit much even for him. Desperately he cast his eyes out over the crowd, looking for some sort of distraction.

Salvation appeared in the form of short dark-blue hair and a familiar pair of glasses. "Hey, there's Issei," he said, pointing him out among the gathered bodies. "And Mitsuzuri too. Why don't we all go over and say hello?"

Thankfully, both Shinji and Tohsaka seemed open to his suggestion, following his lead as he guided them over their waiting friends.

"Ah, Emiya." Issei spotted him easily on the approach. A nod of satisfaction, before some of the pleasure drained from his face when he spotted his companions. "And… gah… Matou and Tohsaka, too."

"Oh, don't be like that Ryuudou," said Mitsuzuri, clapping him on the back and earning a frown in return. She didn't seem the least bit bothered, amber eyes glittering merrily. "We're here to have fun, yeah? Anyway, it's been years since your student council fights. Time to bury the hatchet."

"What hatchet, Ayako?" asked Tohsaka sweetly. "I only ever made sure our Student President was diligent in his duties."

"Hmph. With all the trouble you caused, it's a wonder I ever managed to push anything through."

Mitsuzuri snorted. "And yet your name is still a legend— ah, thank you, Sakura!"

She beamed as they were joined by the younger woman—in this environment, that tiny age gap seemed to matter again—and eagerly accepted the beer cup pressed into her hands.

"My pleasure, but that's your last one tonight," said Sakura, the fondness in her eyes taking nothing away from the sternness of her voice. "I'm opening the shop early tomorrow, so we need to get home at a reasonable time."

"No fair," grumped Mitsuzuri, but discreetly reached for Sakura's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Lingered a moment more before letting go.

The sight warmed Shirou's heart, and for a moment he found himself thinking— _no, forget it, Emiya. It's not for you._

So he let the conversation ripple and flow around him, paddling in whenever his friends asked him a question or sought his opinion. Even though he was doing a lot more listening than talking, Shirou found he was enjoying himself. That would have been unacceptable, especially when his desk was piled high with _(people to save)_ cases, if not for the clear fact that his presence here was making them happy. Even Shirou couldn't deny it, not in the face of Mitsuzuri's bold laughter and Issei's reluctant smile, the pleasure of having Sakura fuss over his health and eating habits. Even Tohsaka seemed to be slowly relaxing, although her eyes still seemed troubled—

"Did you happen to look at their menu, Emiya…? Hellooo, earth to Emiya! Are you even listening?"

Shirou blinked. Mitsuzuri was frowning at him, hands placed indignantly on her hips. Beside her, Sakura was muffling her laughter behind cupped hands, while Shinji shot him a look of mild reproach.

"Sorry, I drifted for a moment there."

"No kidding," said Mitsuzuri, puffing out her cheeks in discontent.

"We were just talking about the cafe at the new shopping arcade," said Sakura smoothly, patting her partner on the shoulder. "The one that opened up on the south side of Shintou. Have you been there, Shirou?"

"Ahh, no. I haven't really had the chance." It was the first he'd even heard of it, actually.

"Huh," said Mitsuzuri, her brow already lightening now that he was engaged again. "I thought that's where you might have gotten that suit. They've got a lot of clothing shops." Ignoring Shinji's intake of breath, she instead turned to Tohsaka. "Weren't you going there this weekend to upgrade your wardrobe?"

"There's nothing wrong with my wardrobe." Tohsaka prickled with indignation. "I just thought I might do some window-shopping, see if anything caught my eye."

"So you won't be busy," smirked Mitsuzuri. There was a dangerous gleam in her eye, one that Shirou remembered all too well from their archery competitions.

"Ayako, _no_ ," growled Tohsaka, so low that he almost missed it, a hint of pink rising in her cheeks.

The other woman only nudged her shoulder, with perhaps less subtlety than intended.

"Alright, alright!" hissed the former idol, before straightening herself up. She hesitated a touch longer, then turned to Shirou. "If you haven't visited it yet, do you want to go together?" Seeing his eyes widen, she crossed her arms and huffed. "Don't misunderstand! I just remember how hopeless you were in school, so a guy like you could definitely use a guide."

"Seriously, Rin…" groaned Mitsuzuri, while Issei glowered and Sakura suppressed a fresh set of giggles.

Shirou considered the offer. He didn't really have the time to spare, but he had a sinking feeling that turning her down would snuff out the brightness that had slowly been building in her eyes all evening. And if he were honest with himself, she still fascinated him, even after all these years.

_Where's the harm? We're just going as friends; it doesn't have to be anything more complicated than that. And If I get take-out on Sunday, I can stay later at the office to make up for it._

So he nodded. "This weekend's a bit tricky, but maybe next Saturday? If that works for you."

Tohsaka stiffened, blue eyes scrutinizing him carefully. When it became clear he was serious, she let herself relax again. A smile flitted across her face.

"Smart of you," she declared, digging into her purse and handing him her phone. "Here, put in your contact information."

"Really, Neesan?" laughed Sakura. "It's not that complicated, you know."

"It's not my fault," Tohsaka huffed. "Tch. Just when I got comfortable with my flip phone, they forced this thing on me."

Shirou silently punched his number in. He couldn't help but notice how few names there were on her contact list.

"Hmph. That's how they sink their claws into you," said Issei mournfully as he straightened his glasses. "Have a care, Emiya. If you wish, I shall recite some sutras for y—"

"Don't you start that again, Ryuudou—!"

His friends fell to bickering again, but Shirou didn't mind. Some habits died hard, that was all, and the old venom had faded. Soon enough the dispute was forgotten, buried underneath the flow of gossip and anecdotes. It was really nice, being around their smiling faces again. Shirou found himself… not happy, he was never entitled to that, but content.

When ten o'clock rolled around, it was with considerable reluctance that he nudged Shinji's shoulder to go. Shinji frowned, but acquiesced with a surprising lack of fuss. They said their goodbyes, then made their way outside into the cool night air.

"Hey, Shinji…" said Shirou when they were halfway towards the main gates, their shoes echoing on the pavement. "Thanks. For tonight, I mean."

Shinji took a deep breath, then turned to face Shirou fully. Instead of the expected smirk, his lips were pressed in a grim line. His eyes seemed oddly haunted under his drawn brow.

"Shinji…?" said Shirou, feeling unease low in his belly.

"Tohsaka, huh," his friend said at last. "Be careful with that one, Shirou."

Confusion furrowed Shirou's brows for a moment, before the obvious dawned on him. "Hey, if you're still after her—"

"No," said Shinji, with the finality of truth chiselled in cold stone. "She'll never look at me that way."

Unsure of what to say, his tongue heavy in his mouth, Shirou watched his friend glance up towards the night sky. The stars were barely visible, drowned out by the cold light of a full autumn moon.

The silence stretched for a few heartbeats, then Shinji continued in a low voice. "There's a darkness in that woman. Something you're better off far away from."

"That's pretty harsh, Shinji," said Shirou, feeling a bit of irritation prickle at his skin. "I know you don't get along, and she's got a bit of a temper, but I'm sure she's a good person."

He didn't fully understand why he felt the need to defend her, not when they hadn't seen each other in seven years. They hadn't even been that close in school. And yet… _that burnt out look in her eyes… it's too bothersome. I can't just leave things like that._

"Always the noble idiot," Shinji gritted out, then his shoulders slumped. "I know I can't stop you, but… look, just watch yourself."

Before Shirou could reply, the other man had pulled away. He didn't look back as he strode out into the gloom of the streets, his phone pulled out to dial a cab.

Shirou watched him go, torn between annoyance at the suggestion that he couldn't look after himself, and a nagging sense of disquiet. Shinji could be a bit of a drama queen, but he had looked uncharacteristically serious in his warning.

Sighing, he checked the time on his phone. _10:12_ , so the buses were still running. He could get a little more work done if he stopped by the office. It was unlikely that Makami was still around, but his mentor sometimes kept odd hours. If he was, then Shirou wasn't too proud to call and ask for a fresh pot of coffee waiting in the kitchen.

His thumb scrolled down his list of contacts. It wasn't all that much longer than Tohsaka's, so it wasn't entirely surprising to see her name flash by on his way down.

Maybe Shinji was right. But when he remembered the way blue eyes had shone as he'd punched in her information, Shirou knew it didn't matter. Going to the shopping arcade would make her happy, so he would go. Making people happy was what Emiya Shirou did.

It was the only way he could live with himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Rin leaned against the stone pillar at the entrance of the shopping arcade, feeling out of place and increasingly out of sorts. The long black skirt and cream blouse that had seemed perfect when she set out that afternoon—stylish, but still casual enough for friends—now felt like a neon sign declaring she was waiting for someone.

_Someone who still hasn't shown up_ , and she was sure the passersby had noticed. Admittedly it was still five minutes to eleven o' clock, but she couldn't keep from tapping her foot.

Damn that Ayako, for getting Rin into this situation. Yes, she had expressed mild curiosity about what kind of person Emiya had grown into. By that, she had _actually_ meant whether reality had finally ground down the boy who refused to accept his limits; finally torn the pole from his stubborn fingers—

— _finally killed the fire that blazed in him, the fire that had once challenged Rin to keep reaching for her goals despite the doubts and guilt and loneliness dragging her down—_

But of course Ayako had interpreted it as the remnants of a crush, which was doubly irritating because it wasn't entirely wrong, even if it was a distant thing after all these years. Which meant Ayako had gotten _involved_ , and now Rin was standing here like an idiot, waiting for a man she barely knew and hoping for… what, exactly?

_To satisfy my curiosity,_ she told herself, even though it didn't sit quite right on her heart. _To see if at least one of us got the future we reached for._ She sighed. _And also an excuse to leave the library for a few hours._

She checked her phone again. No messages, or so she assumed by the lack of a red exclamation mark next to the messaging app. But wait, what if she'd messed up the settings again?

"Hey, Tohsaka."

_Sakura says he's busy all the time_ , she thought as she pressed her finger on the icon, with rather more force than necessary. Her brows knit together. _If he went and cancelled on me—_

"Tohsaka?"

"What?" she snapped, and found herself staring into Emiya's earnest face. "Oh. There you are."

She really hoped that the embarrassment she felt burning her face wasn't visible.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"Yes, everything's fine," she huffed. "Just checking something, that's all." Realigning the thin straps of her purse, she offered him her brightest smile. "Shall we get going, then?"

"Yeah." He peered ahead into the arcade, with its patterned-tile floors and array of brightly-coloured storefronts. A few shoppers were already milling around, the first trickles of the river that would pass through closer to noon. "You're here for clothes, right?"

"I could use a few new blouses, and maybe a skirt or two," she said, "Especially now that I've got someone to carry the bags for me."

"Hey, we're not—!"

"Pfft, hahaha! You should have seen your face." A cat would have envied her smirk. "Although if you did want to hold them, we could call it a fee for showing you around."

"It's overpriced," he frowned, though the corners of his mouth were threatening to turn it into a smile. "This is daylight robbery."

"Any guy should be happy to be robbed by a beautiful woman!" she declared, entirely unabashed.

They traded quips as they headed inside, Shirou walking slowly as he took in various shops. It gave Rin the opportunity to appraise him, from the tousled red hair to the green jacket and comfortable gray slacks that encased his long legs. They looked serviceable enough for a day strolling in the city, but they were definitely not date clothes. A part of her was vaguely disappointed by that, before she swallowed it down.

_Sure, he aged well, but neither of us came here with those expectations. We were never close in high school, and it's been years since._ Her nose crinkled. _Still, you'd think he'd make a bit more effort for a beautiful girl._

"This one?" called Shirou, tilting his head at a store lined with racks of casual clothes in a variety of autumn styles.

"Good eye," she nodded. "An old hand at this, hmm?"

"Not really. But it's pretty straightforward, isn't it? I mean, most clothes pretty much look the same—"

One look at her withering expression brought him to a halt.

"I see I was mistaken," said Rin loftily. "I'll give you a crash course, then. Consider it part of your package."

Seizing him by the arm, she tugged him into the store. A bit forward—actually, a _lot_ too forward by Japanese standards, even if time in London had relaxed her own—but Rin didn't care. That was the kind of ignorance that just couldn't be allowed to stand a moment longer.

The saleswoman gave Rin a polite berth as she stalked through the racks, picking out what she needed to prove her point. A ruffled red blouse here, a pair of leather boots there. Soon both of their arms were full. She left him standing outside the changing room while she got to work.

Rin found herself smiling as she pulled on the first outfit, a demure gray sweater and long skirt. _Follow it up with the blouse and the tight slacks, and he'll have to eat his words._ The thought sent a little thrill down her spine, the first she had felt in some time.

But when she showed him the clothes—okay, modelled them for him, she hadn't quite lost her inclination to preen even after everything—he only briefly glanced at them before delivering his verdict.

" _Sure, that looks fine."_

" _I'm not sure I see the difference, aren't they both red?"_

" _The material on this one looks tougher. It'll hold up better to a laundry machine."_

Dissatisfaction gnawed at Rin's belly. The nerve of the man, sitting there looking so indifferent when she was putting her fashion skills to the test. She swept her gaze over the store, looking for something that might pull him from his calm, when inspiration struck.

"Thank you, Emiya. You've been very helpful," she purred, noting with some satisfaction the touch of alarm in his eyes. _Not so stupid after all_. "But while we're here, shouldn't we look for you as well?"

"Huh? No, no, I've got everything I need—"

"Nonsense. Just the other night, Matou—" the name was sour on her lips, but it was a necessary evil here, "—was complaining that you've barely got any work clothes. Now's your chance to stock up."

"I suppose," he said doubtfully, looking towards the dress shirts on the far wall. "Maybe one of those—"

"Oh no, Emiya. Let's start with the discount rack first, mmm? After all, you said it yourself — most clothes look the same."

With that, she pressed an absolutely atrocious number into his hands, a shirt with black stripes so erratic, any self-respecting zebra would have snorted in derision.

"Oh come on, Tohsaka!"

"It'll be fun!" She flashed him a winning smile as she reached for an oversized set of sunglasses. "Here, try these on too. A perfect match!"

Shirou crossed his arms defensively, and for a moment she thought she had pressed him too far. But before dismay could settle in, he was smirking at her.

"Okay, but only if I get to choose yours, too."

"Hey, wait a minute—"

Too late. Shirou had already grabbed the offered items, then pressed a hideous floral print dress on her in return. The challenge was all too bright in those sherry-brown eyes.

"Fine, you're on! Loser pays for the other's lunch."

Fortunately the food at the cafe was really good, which took some of the sting out of Rin's eventual defeat at the hands of a plaid abomination masquerading as a coat. Not to mention the picture of the two of them wearing silly hats and glasses, smiling for the camera like a pair of idiot teenagers. Perhaps it wasn't exactly _elegant_ or _dignified_ , especially since she'd needed him to figure out the function on her phone, but it was the most fun she'd had in a while.

Even if they did end up arguing a bit about the cafe's recipe for beef stew, and whether curry had any place in _gyoza_ dumplings.

* * *

By the time Tohsaka paid the bill and they returned to the bustling arcade, Shirou was feeling pretty satisfied with the day. From their days back at school and her demeanour at the reunion, he had expected his former classmate to be all grace and poise. She was, when she remembered to be, but the business with the clothes had also revealed hints of a competitive streak and acid tongue that didn't fit with his image of the school idol. When she had declared that cooking was a woman's instrument of war, slapping her palms down on the table rather than smiling demurely, he could see the shadow of the devil Issei had always insisted lurked under her mask.

Instead of disappointment, he found himself rather liking it. The more he poked at her, the more her eyes brightened as she poked back. Still only a ghost of her old spark, but he was glad to see it.

Shirou was just pulling out his phone to check the time when Tohsaka tugged at his arm again. "Got time for one more stop, Emiya?"

He didn't really, but nodded anyway. "Found another way to embarrass me, have you?" he said, then frowned. "A bookstore?"

"Hmph. I thought you might deserve something for being so patient, but now I'm not so sure…"

"Is the lady Tohsaka dissatisfied?" he smiled, then pulled away. "That's fine, then. It's getting late anyway—"

"Oh shut up and come!" she snapped, her grip turning to iron.

As soon as they set foot inside the store, Tohsaka made a beeline for the foreign books. Given that he couldn't read half the titles of the hefty volumes she pulled out and considered, he found himself drifting over to the manga section. Shinji would probably scream at him about appearances and professionalism, but hanging out with the former school idol had put him in a nostalgic mood.

_Speaking of nostalgic, is that Red Lion Requiem?_ He smiled at the titular character, a retired knight depicted sitting next to a grinning boy and surrounded by armor pieces scattered on the grass. As much as he liked stories about heroes, he liked the ones centered around the people they saved even more. _Wow, it's up to volume 23 already. I never made it to number five before studying caught up with me._

Thumbing through the pages, he didn't notice Tohsaka approaching until she leaned over his shoulder.

"Hmm? What's that you've got there?"

"Ah, nothing," he said. "Just something I used to r— hey!"

Cheerfully snatching the book from his hand, she turned it over to read the back.

"I see." Her voice took on a teasing lilt. "Pretty sentimental for a guy your age."

"You're probably into big serious books with sad endings, right?" he said, crossing his arms.

Instead of needling him, she looked pensive as she smoothed a hand over the knight's face. "I used to, because they felt more real. Because that's how I thought the world worked." She sighed. "I think I want to see happy ones now."

She stared at the cover a moment longer, then thrust it back into his hands. "You should buy it." Seeing him hesitate, she clicked her tongue impatiently. "Take some time for yourself too, or you'll burn out. Then you're of no use to anyone."

Shirou opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Shinji kept saying that too. Shirou didn't agree, but… maybe he should try, for their sake.

Tohsaka seemed both surprised and pleased when he bought the fifth volume, intending to pick up where he left off. Pleased enough to buy the next book in the series and add it to his bag.

"A gift for keeping me company today," she said, before shooting him a warning glare. "Don't argue."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The afternoon sun was warm on his face when they left the arcade, a welcome contrast to his sore feet. _We really did play around a lot today,_ he thought, _longer than I planned for. But it was fun._

It was only a passing thought, but it brought his mood crashing down. He didn't deserve to enjoy himself like this, not when all the others would never get that chance. Not when he had been saved, but had yet to save anyone in turn. To think he had let himself get swept along, swayed by a single smile when so many of his clients were anxiously awaiting news about their cases—

"Haa," said Tohsaka beside him as she stretched, the bag shifting in her grip. "That was a bit tiring, but I'm glad we came here."

Despite the haughty tilt of her chin, there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Shirou breathed a sigh of relief as the tide of guilt receded from his lungs, even as Tohsaka glanced at him and her smile faded to a tight press of lips.

_Coming here today made Tohsaka happy_ , he nodded to himself. _And if I work late again tomorrow, I can make up the lost time. So maybe… yeah. It's okay if I enjoyed myself, too._ He let himself relax, and saw the tension leave her in turn.

When they waved each other off, and she told him they should do it again sometime, he found he was looking forward to it.

* * *

Coming home to an empty house didn't bother Rin. Years of practice had eased the vise that once squeezed her heart every time she walked past the silent bedrooms, or set a single plate down on the table. The manor was her domain, where she could let her mask down and practice her arts away from prying eyes. Even if it sometimes also felt like a prison these days, it still offered the simple comfort of the familiar.

The _clink_ of the cup seemed louder than usual when she set it back on its saucer.

Despite her best efforts to stretch out the task as long as possible, Rin had finished hanging up her new clothes. Tea and a light snack provided an excuse to delay things a little longer, but then she would need to buckle down to her magecraft. The syringe was waiting upstairs on the dresser, the one she used to draw blood with which to charge her gems.

Even if the War had been a disaster, Rin was still the Second Owner of Fuyuki. She had responsibilities to carry out, leyline flows to verify and research to conduct. That the Grail no longer offered a path to the Root did not absolve her of her duty to seek another one.

"Look at your foolish Master now, Archer," she sighed, brooding over her cup."Doing the same things over and over, and expecting a different result."

If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the ironic smile set under steel-gray eyes, hear the warmth hidden underneath the sarcastic drawl of his baritone voice. It was a bad habit she had developed after the War, imagining the spirit leaning over her shoulder, offering commentary that was somehow grating and comforting at once. Despite the deadly conflict they had been embroiled with, she had enjoyed his company, even if she had never told him as much.

Too late now, like so many other things in Rin's life. Still, when she found herself wandering around the empty house on particularly sentimental days…

Leaning back in her chair, she pictured him turning from his place at the kitchen counter, dishcloth still in hand. Offering her that familiar smirk, that infuriating shrug.

" _Give me a break. What happened to the unreasonable girl who called herself my Master? The one so determined to have her way that she almost got us killed several times over?"_

"She finally grew up," said Rin, then took a long sip of tea to help down the melancholy.

Since Rin had taken her first toddling steps, her father had impressed upon her that magecraft was a life of pain and sacrifice. But there had been wonder to it too, and the promise of something greater. Something beautiful and eternal, brought within her reach.

The War was supposed to have been her chance to crystallize that promise, and make her ancestors proud. Instead everything had crumbled to ash.

" _Oh? And here I thought it was childish spite that drove you to help Waver Velvet dismantle the Grail."_

She couldn't help but giggle.

"I'm not going to say it didn't feel good! After everything that damn cup put us through, I really enjoyed ripping the whole thing out from my leylines." Then she sighed, slouching back in her seat. "But it gave me purpose, too. Even if most of the Association lost interest after the fifth ritual failed, it was too dangerous to leave in place. Getting rid of the Grail system was a worthy use of magecraft."

" _And now?"_

"I don't know," she grimaced. "I mean, I know what I'm supposed to do. Keep researching a way to the Root, raise an heir, pass along my Crest and findings… that's the duty of every magus. It should be enough."

" _But it isn't_."

"No. But what else can I do? This is what I do, Archer. This is what I _am_."

The Servant didn't say anything more, but she could sense that disapproving gaze prickling against the nape of her neck. It was intensely irritating, and all the more so because as a figment of her imagination, she couldn't brain him with the pot.

Rin tapped her fingers mechanically on the table, wishing for something to distract her from the emotions roiling in her gut. Her gaze strayed towards the end of the table, and the phone she had absently placed there. She never carried it anywhere near her workshop, sure the stupid thing would ring and break her concentration at the worst possible moment.

She hesitated, then picked it up. Struggling with the menus felt worth it when she finally pulled up the pictures they had taken that afternoon.

She giggled. Emiya looked _ridiculous_ in that hat. Justified revenge after he forced those hair clips on her. And who knew he had a thing for twintails...

A burning twitch in her left arm reminded her that her circuits were charged, and she really should be transferring their power into gems. Rin's smile faded.

"Get serious, Rin. Even if he was interested, you'd only be wasting time. And you're not getting any younger. Twenty-five years old— that's Christmas Cake," she muttered.

Twenty-five, and high time she got married and produced an heir. The stack of letters piled on her desk was a stark reminder. Correspondence from various Clocktower connections and Japanese magus clans, all of them politely but blatantly feeling her out for an engagement. The longer she left the matter unsettled, the more her choices would dry up.

_Just pick one, already. Love doesn't factor into this at all, so just logically consider the benefits of each offer._

A memory floated up, blurred by age but still painful after more than a decade. A little girl pulled away towards a waiting car, clutching a pink ribbon in her hand.

_Stop it_. _Just stop it_. _Father made a terrible mistake, but that doesn't mean all magus families end up like that._

But too many did.

Rin found her eyes straying to the phone again.

_Forget it, Rin. You don't even know that Emiya feels the same way. Half the time, it was like he wasn't even there. No, more like he was putting the brakes on to stop himself from being there._ She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to chew her fingernail. _It's so hard to tell what he's thinking._

Rin hesitated again, then pulled the phone closer. _Still, it really was fun... even if it's not a good idea, I want to see him again._

Some of the old greed trickled back into her veins, the magus' desire to build and rule her world. A world consisting of the things she wanted and valued. And right now, she wanted that ruffled hair and steady voice.

Even if Emiya _had_ proven himself to be a sarcastic ass when pushed a bit.

Grinning to herself, she fumbled through the contact list and pressed down, missing the way her thumb slipped in her eagerness. She couldn't quite believe she was doing this.

_One ring… two rings…_ she forced down the small flutter in her heart as something on the other end of the line clicked.

" _Millefeuille Bakery, orders and deliveries. How can I be of help today?"_

Rin didn't hurl her phone against the wall, but it was a near thing.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Sorry, Tohsaka. I know we rescheduled for today, but work hit a snag. It's going to take a bit longer than I expected."_

"It's Sunday, Emiya. We're all out of weekend, you know?" said Rin, letting a little irritation slip into her voice to cover the disappointment. Her fingers curled against the hard wood of the desk.

" _I know, but it's urgent. Look, I'll call you once I've got it solved, and we can figure out a day."_

"I'm beginning to think you don't want to see me, Emiya."

She said it in a teasing tone, but the thought gave her a jolt of apprehension. She had not forgotten the distant look in the man's eyes at the arcade the other day, just before they waved goodbye.

" _I do, but this really can't wait."_ The frown was audible in his voice. _"Sorry, Tohsaka."_

Rin huffed as she paced back and forth in the study, certainly not stomping. "Fine, but you're going to make it up to me." She considered for a moment. "A new Western-style teahouse opened up in Miyama's old town, did you know? They're supposed to have lots of exotic blends."

" _... you're going to make me treat you to all of them, aren't you?"_

"Well, since you're offering..." she smirked, and relished the groan she got in response. "But I'm a gracious woman. If you beg, maybe I'll leave it to just the most expensive one."

" _You really are a devil,"_ he sighed. There was a shuffle on the other end. " _Sorry, I have to go now_."

Before Rin could get another word in, the line went dead. She frowned at the phone's screen for a few seconds more, then morosely set it down on the side table.

"Well, he did say he could rarely go out to relax because of all his cases," she told herself as she sat back in her seat with a sigh. "This is normal, I guess…"

It was probably for the best, anyway. She had a lot of rituals to complete, the followup to the research she had brought with her from the Clocktower. The magic circle was already set up in the basement. Might as well get an early start. If she got too lonely, there was always the imaginary Archer.

Reaching for the box of gems in the desk drawer, Rin found herself pausing when the distant noise of a backfiring engine drew her gaze to the study's windows. It looked to be a beautiful day outside, judging from the sunlight shining through the edges of the curtains.

"Screw it." The box was firmly thrown to the back of the drawer. She stretched and rose from the desk. "I already freed up my schedule for today. I don't need that jerk to go out and enjoy myself."

That, and the lingering disappointment was already making it difficult for her to concentrate on the papers in front of her. Spellcasting was risky enough without a distracted mind.

She padded down the hall towards the front entrance, pausing to collect her bag and phone along the way.

"Maybe I should call Ayako… no, she and Sakura have a date by the river today."

Unfortunately, they were some of the only friends she still kept regular touch with here in Fuyuki. Most of the others — Makidera, Watanabe, even sweet Saegusa with her not-so-hidden crush — had tried to stay in touch, but eventually drifted off despite best efforts. It was to be expected, with all the hectic travelling Rin had done between Europe and Japan as part of her work with El-Melloi the Second. Another regret — once, she had made herself think of friends largely as accessories, cover for her public persona. By the time she could let herself honestly appreciate them, time and distance had pulled them away.

Which left her alone on a Saturday morning with no plans, no company, and a wallet full of cash.

_Free_ , Rin told herself as she pulled on her coat and arranged her hair. _These things are a matter of perspective._

"Where to go… it's been a while since I visited the pawn shops. I _am_ running low on gems again, and they might have gotten new stock in."

Some of the poorer families that lived in north Miyama had originally come from wealth, and sometimes their heirlooms ended up traded away for desperately-needed cash. On rare occasions, such jewels might even contain a dormant elemental or other spirit. Rin might have been a proud woman, but she was also a magus, and not inclined to let the misfortunes of others get in the way of a good bargain.

There was a spring in her step as she left the manor, even if it felt a little forced. Gradually, she relaxed under the blue sky of an unusually warm autumn day as she made her way to the bus stop. No need for a taxi when taking it easy was half the point.

When the bus arrived, Rin took a seat near the back and settled in for the ride. It was a little hard not to lean up against the window as the streets flew by. The rumble of the engine and the vibration always made her a little sleepy.

But she wasn't so dazed that she didn't recognize the familiar head of auburn hair or the earnest face peering down at his phone screen as he boarded the bus.

"Emiya?" She frowned. "I thought he said he was working today. Where's he going?"

Instinctively she ducked her head as he came down the aisle, then cursed herself for it. Fortunately he seemed not to have noticed, still absorbed in his device as he took a seat halfway down. He was dressed smart casual, a sports coat slung over his dress shirt and trousers.

_He doesn't seem the type to dress up just for a stroll,_ she thought, tilting her head as she considered him. _But the courthouse is in Shinto, on the other side of the river. Maybe he's visiting a client?_

Maybe, although she couldn't help but notice his attire was also suitable for a date.

_That's fine, isn't it? Ayako said he was single, but she could be wrong. Maybe he's going on blind dates again, like she said he used to._

Her grip tightened a bit on the strap of her bag before she forced it to relax. If anything, that would be for the best. It would remove the temptation to seek anything more than a friendship, leaving her to concentrate on her duties.

Still, Rin found her gaze straying towards Emiya again. He was focused on the street signs flying past the windows, punctuated by occasional glances towards his phone. That suggested he wasn't familiar with his destination, whatever that was.

_It's none of your concern, Rin_ , she chided herself, letting her head fall back on the headrest.

Magi were territorial people, and Rin had learnt at an early age the importance of respecting boundaries. In the Moonlit World, they were often enforced by threats of grievous bodily harm. But magi were also curious people, and Rin had spent much of her life struggling to control the natural inquisitiveness that had almost gotten her killed once, when she snooped among her father's books and crystals.

She wasn't that little girl anymore, but the old curiosity still made her fingers itch and powered the gears in her mind.

_Where's he going? What's so important that he felt the need to cancel on me?_

Conflicting instincts warred within her, but only briefly. T She wanted to know more about Emiya and satisfaction seemed within easy reach. She barely noticed when her stop passed by, keeping her eye on the redhead instead. When he got off the bus a while later, she quietly slipped after him.

Emiya took a few steps forward on cracked pavement before checking his phone again, glancing up at the street sign, then making his way down a narrow lane. Rin followed at a distance, careful to stop every time he paused to get his bearings. That gave her plenty of time to take in the sorry state of the houses, with their washed out facades and seedy atmosphere.

"What on earth…?" she muttered, then shook her head. She had come this far. No backing out until she got her answers.

If Emiya felt anxiety about the surroundings, he showed no sign of it. On the contrary, he didn't so much as flinch when his path took him through side streets and alleyways, the buildings growing ever more dilapidated. Clothes that might have passed for casual in an office stuck out like a sore thumb here, earning him suspicious stares from the inhabitants.

Rin bit her lip, all too aware that she was attracting her own share of unwanted attention. She briefly considered turning back, before curiosity and a flicker of wounded pride pushed her forward. Besides, she was a magus. She had little to fear from derelicts and day labourers, so long as she kept her wits about her.

Eventually they arrived at a slum proper, one of the rare few in Fuyuki. The road was a patchwork, bleached concrete lined with a spiders' web of shiny black tar. Weary men (there were very few women) watched her from dingy plastic chairs, or the stoops of houses held together by planks, tarps and desperation. The tension in the air thicked, an uncomfortable brew of failed dreams and simmering resentment. Rin had to resist the instinct to draw a charged gem from her pocket.

Emiya must have read the atmosphere too, for he didn't try to engage with his silent observers. Instead, he consulted his phone again, then strode across the grimy pavement towards a cluster of ramshackle houses.

He knocked on a door with peeled red paint. When no one answered, he tried again before glancing at the tar paper covering up the windows.

"Anybody home?" he called. Greeted only by silence, Emiya squared his shoulders and tried the door. It swung open with a low creak. "Excuse me," he said with a slight bow, then headed inside.

Rin counted out the seconds, then sidled up to the doorway so she could peek inside. She was just leaning around the frame when a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder.

Instincts honed by years of kenpo made Rin spin around and step forwardinto the hostile grip instead of trying to pull away. Taken aback, her aggressor offered no resistance when she yanked him off balance, then flipped him over her left shoulder.

There was a heavy thud and a yelp of pain. Rin moved back a healthy distance before cautiously turning around, her fists raised in a fighting stance. A stocky man was slowly picking himself up, groaning as he pressed a hand against his back.

"Tch!" She relaxed her guard a fraction, glaring down at him. "What do you think you're doing, grabbing a lady like that?"

A roar of voices echoed behind her, along with a clatter of footfalls.

" _Eisuke!"_

" _What's she done to him?"_

Cursing under her breath, Rin moved so her back was to the crumbled stone brick. It was frightening how quickly the crowd assembled, men in worn labourers' clothing and stern-faced women called in possible defense of a neighbour. Rin might have appreciated the sentiment more if it didn't mean a mass of bodies cutting her off from the street.

Murmuring under her breath, she drew some mana from her circuits to stealthily Reinforce her limbs. Just a little bit, she told herself, in case things turned unexpectedly sour. She had to remember that these were ordinary people closing in on her, not trained magi or the skeletal familiars that haunted her dreams. There was no need for excessive force.

"No need to play so rough, girl," said the presumed Eisuke as he brushed himself off and shot her a look.

"You snuck up on me first," she said, trying to keep her voice level. She could vent her indignation later. "You can hardly blame me for defending myself."

"That was your own fucking fault for hovering around that door."

Rin allowed herself a glance at the crowd and almost breathed a sigh of relief. The worst of the tension was dissipating now that she and Eisuke were speaking to each other, albeit in an unfriendly manner. Curiosity joined suspicion on the surrounding faces, and even a few looks of grudging anticipation.

Eisuke's cough caught her attention. "So what do you want, _miss_? If it's muscle you've come to hire, you won't find any in that house."

And now the anticipation made sense. Well-dressed strangers must rarely come to this part of town unless they were looking to hire some labour, including the shadier kind. Silently trailing Emiya and poking around the house uninvited must have firmly placed her in the latter category in their minds.

Embarrassing, but hopefully it meant they would lose interest quickly once she corrected them.

"I was just passing through," she said coolly. "If you'll let me through, I'll be on my way."

For a shining moment, it looked like they would do exactly that. Eisuke snorted in disbelief, but moved away towards a crowd that was already starting to drift apart. A few of the men and even some of the women were looking her up appraisingly, crude propositions already half-formed in the lift of their lips. Irritating, but nothing she hadn't fielded before in her pawn shop forays.

Rin let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding—

"No, _fuck_ that!"

— then snapped her head around to see a rough looking man make his way through the crowd, broad shoulders outlined by a military-style green jacket. His mouth was set in a hard line that contrasted with the wet gleam in his dark eyes. People reluctantly stepped aside to make room, some giving him looks of uneasy sympathy.

_Not a good sign._ But trying to force an escape through the crowd now would only confirm in their minds that she was hiding something. Instead she forced herself to look him in the eye and wait.

"You came to collect more from Hina-chan, didn't you?" Green Jacket growled as he approached, hands clenched. "How's she ever supposed to pay you bastards back when you keep charging her more fucking interest?"

" _A debt collector, then?"_

" _She doesn't look the type, but you never know. Maybe it's some trick…"_

The crowd's mood was souring, the looks thrown her way growing more sullen. With the man's accusation, Rin was no longer just a stuck-up lady poking her nose where she didn't belong. Now she was the face of an entire system designed to grind down people already on their last legs.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Rin gave a small shake of her head. "I don't know that person. I'm not looking to take anything."

" _Liar!_ " Green Jacket's face was a mask of grief and anger as he walked. He was less than ten feet away now. "You and that guy made a fucking beeline for her house, and you wanna tell me you're not looking for her?"

_Emiya, what the hell have you gotten me into?_

"There's a perfectly good explanation," she said firmly. "If you'll let me—"

"And you just _happened_ to drop by now," the man cut her off with a snarl, "when her old man got dragged back to prison. When she'd be alone."

The crowd bristled angrily behind him.

"Too fucking late, aren't you?" Green Jacket came to a stop in front of her, then jabbed an accusatory finger towards the open doorway. "Unless you figured you'd snatch what you could from their place. Is that it?"

"That's not true," protested Rin, then jolted as a metal can hit the wall a short distance away.

Green Jacket looked surprised too, and even a little uneasy despite his anger. When a crowd got to the point of throwing things, it didn't take much for things to turn _ugly_ , fast. The man clearly didn't like the idea. But he wasn't about to just let her go, either. There was far too much pain in his eyes for that.

Teeth clenched, Rin braced herself

Then the door next to her swung open, and Emiya stepped out onto the street. His sudden appearance made Green Jacket pause, along with the crowd at his back. Brows furrowed, Emiya quickly swept his gaze over the crowd, then startled when he spotted her.

"Tohsaka?" He turned back to the crowd, his eyes narrowing. "What's going on here?"

Ignoring the crowd's medley of shouted responses, Green Jacket whirled on him. "What are _you_ doing in that house?" he growled. "You think you can just barge in and do what you like?"

Shirou glanced at Rin. "I.. _we're_ looking for Ito Daisuke." He straightened his shoulders and offered the man a small smile. "This is Ito-san's house, isn't it? My name is Emiya Shirou." He gave a polite bow. "I'm his lawyer."

"Lawyer?" Green Jacket repeated skeptically, while the people talked among themselves and stared at Emiya as they digested this information. "Not a fucking chance. Old Man Daisuke could never afford one."

"The wolves got to give you one," offered a nearby woman with the jaded confidence of someone with experience on the subject. "You gotta be represented before they throw the book at ya."

Several people spat on the ground. Given the reputation of court-appointed lawyers, Rin couldn't blame them.

"That right?" muttered Green Jacket, looking a little disarmed before he glowered at Emiya again. "So you're who they gave him?"

"Not exactly," said Emiya with a pained smile. "Nakamura-san was assigned to represent Ito-san, but he's a bit stretched thin."

_That's a polite way to say he doesn't give a damn,_ thought Rin as she stood by, hands still balled into fists. _Not when he has private clients he could be billing._

The expressions surrounding her suggested it was a shared opinion.

"So I volunteered to take the case on," said Emiya calmly. "I came here looking for—"

"Yeah? And why would you do that?" Green Jacket cut him off and leaned aggressively towards him.

Rin tensed, but forced herself not to interfere. Not yet, not until there was no other choice. The War had taught her never to threaten violence unless she was prepared to immediately follow through. Around them the crowd stood in a half-circle, watching intently.

"Ito-san needed help," said Emiya as if that explained everything. "I'm was hoping to speak to his daughter Hinako—"

"I knew it!" yelled Green Jacket and grabbed Emiya by the lapels of his jacket. Only the lawyer's quick shake of the head in Rin's direction lowered her fist as the other man roared. "Come to get favours from her, yeah?"

The crowd erupted into angry muttering and jeers, though thankfully there were no further projectiles. Entirely calm, as if he hadn't just heard a half dozen people threaten to gut him like a fish, Emiya slowly but firmly pulled the man's hands off him.

"Not at all," he said. "But I understand why you're wary of me. I'm glad that Itou-san has people like you in her corner." He nodded towards the door. "If you let go, we can head inside and talk things over."

Green Jacket hesitated, torn between his fury and the renewed grief crumpling his face. "Not a chance," he growled at last, and Rin's fingers twitched anew. "You fuckers always talk a good game, but—"

"That's enough, Kaitou!" an older man's voice rang out from the crowd.

While the people had parted reluctantly to let Green Jacket—Kaitou, she mentally amended—through earlier, they looked almost relieved now as they shuffled aside to let the man through. His shoulders were narrow and rather frail-looking under his patched coat, his hair silvered with age, but there was a quiet assurance in his stance as he looked over both men in turn.

"Lashing out blindly at these people won't help," said the man sternly, though his eyes softened as they settled on Kaitou. "Let's at least hear what he has to say."

Kaitou's mouth twisted as the two stared at each other. Then he took a deep breath and reluctantly stepped away. The older man favoured him with a kind smile before looking expectantly at Emiya.

The lawyer let out a relieved breath. "Thank you. I came here today to check up on Itou-san's health." He looked a bit reluctant to disclose such personal information, but pressed on. "I promised her father I would bring her to the hospital if she looked unwell."

The crowd muttered among each other before a wave of the man's arm silenced them.

"That's kind of you," he said, "But Hinako-chan and her father are not citizens, and thus not covered by insurance. Educated as you are, I am sure you know that hospital fees are expensive when paid out of pocket."

Rin resisted the urge to bite her lip. A number of the fake priest's visitors had occasionally complained as much, but they always had the funds to pay anyway. For people who fell through the cracks without such funds…

"I'll pay for the fees," Emiya said resolutely. "Please tell me where she is. If what Itou-san said is true, then her condition—"

"She's dead!" snapped Green Jacket, then squeezed his eyes shut before continuing in a lower trembling voice. "F-fuck your fees, you bastard… she's gone, and I didn't…" He knocked away the comforting hand an older woman tried to put on his shoulder. "Where the hell were you last month, asshole? When it s-still would have mattered? Fuck you!"

Shakily he spat on the pavement in front of a stunned Emiya, then let himself be pulled away. He didn't even spare a glance at Rin as the woman awkwardly wrapped an arm over his shoulder and led him over the pavement. His broken wail echoed over the silent crowd.

"Dead? But that's not… that's…" said Emiya, blinking furiously.

"I apologize for Kaitou's outburst," said the older man after a moment. "He was her sweetheart, you see." He gave a deep sigh, then straightened as he turned to face Emiya. "Hinako-chan died last week."

Rin felt her heart lodge in her throat. When she glanced at Emiya, the man looked positively stricken.

"But Itou-san said…" he began haltingly.

"Nobody's gotten the chance to tell Daisuke yet, because the police won't let us in to see him," said the man with a tight-lipped smile. "Not even a phone call."

Emiya soundlessly moved his lips for a few moments, before he buried his face in his hands, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment, "I…"

"It has nothing to do with you, young man." The other's face was stern as he spread his hands. "Hinako-chan was sick for years, and her medicine was expensive. More than Daisuke could afford. Eventually the bills added up and he got desperate. He stole things to get quick cash." The man shook his head. "Too many things. Of course he got caught."

He eyed Emiya critically. "The first time, some lawyer took him on _pro bono_. But they never believed Daisuke was doing it for his girl, so they didn't try very hard. Daisuke went to jail, and that made things worse for Hina-chan. She took on…" the man grimaced, "odd jobs, that sort of thing. More strain on her poor body."

Rin's stomach lurched uncomfortably as the man spoke. She wasn't the sentimental type, but she knew all about watching a loved one waste away and being powerless to stop it. From the pallor in Emiya's face, she guessed she wasn't the only one.

"Each time Daisuke got released, he'd put her back in bed and start stealing again, twice as desperate. Each time he got caught, his sentence got longer. This…" the man's sigh carried over the hushed crowd. "This was inevitable. But…"

Emiya's eyes widened when the older man gave him a stiff bow, small but deliberate. "You took the time to come down and check on Hina-chan. That means a lot, even now."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and disappeared back into the crowd. As if released from a spell, it burst into a low roar as dozens of conversations overlapped. Still, more than a few glances turned their way, not all of them friendly. Time to take their leave before something could happen to turn the situation sour again.

Rin approached Emiya and gingerly patted his shoulder. He looked at her with empty eyes.

"Let's go, Emiya," she said in a low voice, then sighed when he didn't move. "We're intruding on their grief. Best to leave them to mourn."

She had the feeling that would resonate with him more than a common sense appeal to intact limbs. Her intuition proved correct when he nodded glumly and followed her out of the slum, back into the asphalt tangle of streets.

They walked silently for a little while, shoulders drawn in and gazes trailing on the ground. Then Emiya abruptly stopped and looked at her.

"Why _were_ you there, Tohsaka?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Ahaha!" she laughed stiffly. "I'm not familiar with this part of town, so I might have gotten a bit lost—"

His stare made it clear that he didn't believe her.

"—alright, yes. I saw you on the bus, and I decided to follow you." She crossed her arms and huffed. "Y—you can't blame me! Most lawyers spend all day in their offices, not running off to the worst parts of town. Of course I got curious."

"More like you were thinking something weird," he said, his lips twitching upwards.

"I wasn't!" she said, her cheeks reddening in outrage. "Hmph! Only someone who's weird themselves would think that…"

"If you say so," said Emiya, then pulled out his phone. When she glanced over his shoulder, she saw bus schedules displayed on the screen.

"I'm going to the police station," he said. "They've still got Itou-san in temporary custody before his trial date." He swallowed heavily. "I need to tell him."

He looked away, but she could see the misery written all over his face. _Idiot_ , to get so broken up about something so out of his control, a tragedy years in the making. The magus in her sneered at so much wasted energy, when he should be focusing on his next case instead.

But her treacherous heart went out to him.

"Tch. Emiya, wait! I'll go with you," she said, brushing against his shoulder as she moved to his side.

"Tohsaka…?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"I've already gotten tangled up in this mess, thanks to you. And a Tohsaka always sees things through." It had come out a little more sharply than she'd intended it. Too sharply, from the way his brows crinkled. She hesitated, then gave up and added in a softer tone, "And you look like you could really use the company."

"I… yeah," he relented, to her mild surprise. "I think I could."

Rin waited outside the station while Emiya met with his client, seated on a bench with her pockets stuffed in her coat pockets. She always travelled with a book on her longer expeditions into the city, but today it sat untouched in her bag. There was too much to think about.

When Emiya emerged an half hour later, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world along with the envelope gripped in his hand.

"Emiya?" she asked tentatively. "How did it go?"

"Not well," he grimaced, shoulders trembling. "Itou-san… he lost his daughter, after everything he did for her. There wasn't much I could say to help."

"I'm sorry," she said, and received a wan smile in return. After a while, curiosity overpowered manners and she gestured towards the envelope. "What's that?"

"Ah. A map of where he hid the money he managed to scrape together over the years." Rin hated the way her brain instinctively caught on the operative word. "Itou-san said that he… he didn't need it anymore. That I should just take it." Emiya shook his head. "I need to find out who's handling Hinako-san's funeral arrangements. Hopefully this can help a bit."

Rin nodded as she fell into step beside him, walking along to their mutual bus stop. Gradually Emiya stood a little straighter, and she felt the mood begin to lift. Not enough, judging from the stiff set of his jaw. She internally debated for a moment, then leaned forward to catch his eye.

"Well, I didn't expect our second outing to be like this," she said with a small smile.

Emiya looked a little sheepish even as he scowled. "Hey, I told you I was busy with work. You're the one who snuck along—"

"I didn't say I hated it," she interrupted, then grinned when he gaped at her. "You're a good man, Shirou."

Rin knew she would treasure the memory of his reddening face that night. Even if teasing him couldn't wipe away the grim events of the day, the distraction did relax his brow a fraction.

That didn't stop doubt from gripping her chest as she waved him off, watching with conflicted eyes as the bus pulled away from the curb. _A good man, huh. That's why I should forget about him. Because by the standards of the mundane world, I'm rotten to the core._

She wrapped her coat a little more tightly around herself. _It's not like I… okay, fine, I wouldn't mind going on a date with him. We might even hit it off for a little while._ Her fists clenched at her sides. _But it could never get serious. I'd have to tell him about my magecraft, the Moonlit World… it wouldn't work out._

That should have been the end of it. She told herself it would be, burying her nose in her book on the ride home to distract herself from the ache in her heart.

Two days later, she reluctantly rose from her bed, longing for the sweet embrace of the covers, to find a light blinking on her phone. Bleary-eyed, she tugged it over and struggled for a bit with the damnable password system. There weren't many people who still called Rin, but she could think of a few possibilities. El-Melloi the Second requesting assistance with some difficult bit of research, maybe, or Sakura about the white sage she'd ordered.

Her heart skipped a beat when she read the message.

" _Sorry for the trouble this weekend. Can we reschedule to this Saturday?"_

Their worlds were just too different. It couldn't work out, for a myriad of reasons.

_I really am selfish_ , smiled Rin as she tapped out 'It's a date!'. _The absolute worst. Because I want to try anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay - I rewrote this chapter twice, and I'm still not satisfied with it. The next one should be out much sooner *crosses her lying fingers*

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: happy birthday, Rin! Let's celebrate by posting the first chapter slowburn romance fic I've been sitting on for months now. This story was requested by my friend CrazyLich79, who was so involved in planning this story, and helping me work through sections where I was entirely stumped, that I'm holding him equally guilty for it. All thanks to tuntuntunaa as well, who will protest that she didn't do much and yet proofread the whole thing, offered suggestions and encouragement, and even drew a comic that frankly puts my scribblings to shame. Her fics are also great fun, if you haven't yet checked them out.
> 
> As for Lich, he has the following to say: "For all that Tung says the story is mine or whatever, she was the one who wrote it; and for all that Tuna says she didn't do much, she proofread the whole story before I did, and drew a mean looking comic for it as well. Draw your conclusions from that."
> 
> Finally, a big thank you to my good friend Exstarsis, who was kind enough to read through and fix my nonsense. All remaining errors in wording and concepts are strictly mine.


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